Darker Days
by Rose Colored Chimera
Summary: Everyone knows that Darkness preys on the vulnerable - and what could be more vulnerable than a child alone? Welcome to my nightmare.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is VERY divergent from canon - as in everything changes, and a couple of characters become extremely OOC. There will be blood, death, and enough angst to drown in. If you're okay with that, then have fun. If not, there's a nice little back button to get you out. Don't say you weren't warned.

Since this isn't canon, I obviously don't own Digimon. And this is rated M for graphic violence - just to be safe.

* * *

The sun shone brightly down on the colorful landscape, sparkling off of crystal blue water and filtering through leafy emerald treetops. Small sounds and the occasional flicker of movement showed that life carried on in this small valley, hidden away near the desert border. Here, the world was lush and green, though beyond the cluster of trees, the land turned rocky, the ground gradually drying out until the dirt became fine saffron sand.

But slowly, like a creeping sickness, the light dimmed, the cheerful sounds dying away as something twisted invaded the bright haven.

The dark creature made its way into the oasis as an arrogant king might stride into the city slums, simultaneously dismissive and disdainful. Cold eyes scanned carefully for the prize it sought, and lit up in wicked anticipation as the object was found. There, nestled almost lovingly amidst the roots of one of the trees, cushioned by soft green grass, laid a bright white egg with vivid purple splotches.

The digimon's eyes narrowed, and one clawed hand reached out to wrap itself around the fragile egg. "So," the monster's deep voice rumbled. "This puny little thing is to help that tiny human _creature_ defeat me? Nonsense. I will crush their insignificant hope into dust, and… wait…" Those digits paused, a calculating gleam entering the creature's eyes for a long moment. And then a cruel, twisted smile stretched over sharp fangs. "Or, better yet…"

The dark one concentrated, an expression almost of pain crossing its features as darkness bled off of its form. The small, dark spores hovered briefly near their master, but then gathered around the defenseless egg… and sunk inside. Finally, with a rumbling laugh, the creature left the oasis.

Slowly, gradually, the sounds of life returned. And the sun shone down… on a steel grey egg with deep violet markings.

* * *

_Three weeks later;_

"Are you _sure_ he'll be okay?" Anxious blue eyes looked searchingly into the elder boy's own brown, the younger child obviously worried.

The older boy smiled, reaching out to ruffle dusty black hair. "Yeah, he just needs to rest some. A little food -"

"A _lot_ of food!" the little digimon interrupted, making both young boys laugh.

"Okay, a lot of food, some rest, and he'll be good as new. It's not weird for a digimon to drop to a lower level after a big fight, I promise. Now, I can work on setting up the shelter, if you can go scrounge us up some fruit, okay, kid?"

A bright smile lit up delicate features, and the child jumped to his feet. "Okay, I'll be right back, and I'll have us a good supper!" The smaller face tipped up toward the treetops, and the eager young voice called out. "Stingmon, I'm going to get supper – you keep watch, okay?"

A large, green insectoid digimon called back, the buzz in his voice not hindering the two children's ability to understand his words. "I understand – call out if you need me, and hurry back."

As the little boy ducked into the forest, he dimly heard the elder scolding his own partner. "And you be more careful – you could have gotten de-digitized and sent back to Primary Village, and _then_ where would we be? Stingmon and the kid would've had to escort me to come get you!"

* * *

After about an hour, the little boy sat back and studied the pile of fruit and berries collected in his jacket. _'That should be about enough'_ he decided. _'Time to-' _A loud crashing sound interrupted his thoughts, making the child jerk around to face the direction he'd come from. Wide eyed, he scanned the forest in front of him, scrambling to his feet when he heard a familiar voice cry out. _'That's Stingmon!'_ he thought, fear lancing through his chest as he broke into a run. _'I've got to get back – they need me!'_

By the time he made it back to the clearing, whatever had attacked – for there had clearly been a battle – was gone now. Panting from the exertion, he looked frantically for his friends. A patch of pale green caught his eye, causing the child to cry out as he dashed towards his small partner. "Leafmon!" he cried, tears welling up as he scooped the battered little digimon up in shaking hands. "Leafmon, what happened? Where's… Oh!"

The fallen form of the older boy registered in his mind, and the child scrambled over to his side. The little one's horror-stricken gaze took in his friend's dull, pained eyes, the limp form – and the thick, viscous crimson spreading from the gaping wound in the boy's chest. Some part of the child's mind vaguely recalled the first aid courses his brother had allowed him to tag along to, and the boy desperately pressed his hands to the wound to try and stop the bleeding.

A wild-eyed glance failed to spot the older boy's own partner digimon, but the chest beneath his hands was heaving, a horrible whistling wheeze sounding as the boy tried vainly to breathe. That once-smiling mouth opened, the older DigiDestined trying to impart some knowledge to the younger, but all that escaped blood-stained lips was a wet, hacking cough. Panicked, the younger child failed to register the fear light up the elder's eyes when the little green digimon leaned against his partner.

As the tears in those bright blue eyes began to fall, the little boy threw back his head and wailed, confusion and fear and helplessness overwhelming him as a blinding white light erupted from the mechanical device on the child's belt.

* * *

Brow furrowed in confusion, trying to make sense of the fact that his computer had just spit out a strange electronic device, the dark haired pre-teen stalked down the hallway. Another brilliant flash of light erupted from his closed bedroom door, and the boy felt his heart stutter as he realized he had left his younger sibling alone in the room.

He was already whirling about as the light faded, but the sound of his beloved – if occasionally irritating – little brother shrieking spurred him into a frantic, scrambling run. The boy barreled through the door, desperate questions already leaving his lips as he burst into the room. "Ken! What…!"

Ichijouji Osamu stumbled to a stop, mind temporarily blanking at the sight of his little brother pressing on the bloody chest of a strange boy about Sam's own age. And then he pulled himself back together, dropping to his knees beside the terrified child as he shouted at the top of his voice. "MOM, DAD – CALL AN AMBULANCE!"

* * *

**A/N 2:** Told you. If this bothers you, then leave now - it only gets worse from here.

The little snippets we get in Adventure 02 of Ken and (apparently) only one other DigiDestined child intrigued me, particularly since one of the pair was so very young. There was SO much potential for disaster - and this is where that train of thought led. Next chapter: older Ken, repercussions and a few familiar heroes.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hm, sorry for the massive delay. Hopefully someone actually still bothers to read this. And speaking of readers, thank you to: _**sammyjon123**_ and _**Immortal Fallen Radiance**_.__

I don't own, and there are actually no warnings for this chapter. But don't get used to that.

* * *

The lights were low, flickering brighter every so often as the train passed by a junction or maintenance tunnel. The only steady illumination came from the soft glow of the laptop screen, the quiet click of the owner typing blending easily with the rumbling of the subway train.

The wall clock read nearly 2:00 AM, and only one of the three passengers was awake. The passenger, obscured by the baseball cap pulled low and the bulky grey jacket, carefully scanned the screen balanced on his knees, intent on memorizing as much of the information on the tiny computer as possible.

A slender hand moved the wireless mouse, clicking and confirming something on the screen. Sharp eyes settled on what appeared to be registration papers, detailing the transfer of a student into a new school. "Hotaka" the figure murmured, his voice too low to truly be speaking to his sleeping train-mates. "I am Kondo Hotaka, pleased to meet you."

The owner finally satisfied, the laptop found itself being powered down and stowed away just as the overhead speakers crackled to life. "Odaiba Station, next stop. All passengers for Odaiba Station please prepare for departure."

In a matter of moments, the subway train began its roll to a temporary stop, and a blue-eyed boy rose silently to his feet.

* * *

-_Later that day-_

As the class began to settle in, various discussions floating around the room as they waited not so impatiently for the teacher to call order, two young teenagers in the midst of the room traded amused, knowing glances. The blond boy on the left grinned, glancing to the clock and holding up three fingers beneath his desk. The brunette girl, bangs held back from her face by a pink barrette, giggled quietly as she smiled back and nodded.

As the boy glanced back at the clock, apparently counting the seconds, he curled one finger back into his palm. And then another. Four things then happened simultaneously – the last finger curled in, the clock struck eight AM, the bell rang… and a spiky-headed brunet boy burst through the door. "I'm NOT late!" the newcomer cried, setting the two friends off into quiet laughter.

The teacher only sighed, too accustomed to the boy's theatrics to be startled. "No, Motomiya-kun, you're not. Now go sit down – class is about to start."

Flashing the woman a bright grin, the thirteen year old quickly slid into his seat on the opposite side of the laughing girl. The blond boy leaned over a little, catching the newcomer's eye around their friend. "Honestly, Davis, we _called_ you this morning – we call you _every_ morning, and you still barely make it."

As Davis made a face, the girl turned mock-wide eyes on the blond. "But TK, don't you know? He was always _late_ before we started calling him!"

As his friends laughed, Davis groaned. "Oh come on, Kari, not you too!"

When the teacher began the day's lecture, the three friends turned their attention back to the front of the room, two fighting to control their chuckles as the third sulked quietly. Approximately half way through the class, the teacher was interrupted by a quick, light knock on the door. Frowning in irritation, the woman moved to the classroom door and spoke quietly to someone just outside of it. Finally the teacher smiled and, with the full attention of the entire class, led a dark haired boy to stand in front of the students.

"Class" she called cheerfully, as if every eye _wasn't_ already focused on the stranger, "We have a new student joining us today. This is Kondo Hotaka-kun, and he's just transferred here from Nerima. Being so late in the school year, I would like for a volunteer to help him settle in and catch up with our projects. Would anyone… ah, thank you, Kamiya-kun" the woman trailed off as Kari raised a hand. "Kondo-kun, please see Kamiya-kun before the day's end to set up times to meet. Now that that's settled, please welcome your new classmate, everyone."

The boy bowed politely as the class obediently greeted him, blue eyes lingering on the brunette girl who favored him with a cheerful, kind smile. He had to walk past her to reach one of the few empty seats in the room, and the girl titled her head in an approximation of a greeting bow, causing the boy to hesitate. "Welcome, Kondo-kun" Kari offered. "It won't be easy to catch up so late, but I'll do my best to help. I'm sure we can be good friends, and-"

"Kamiya-_san_," the boy interrupted, the icy edge in his voice draining the smile off of his classmate's face. "I appreciate your assistance in class, but understand this now – I have _no_ interest in becoming your… friend." And with that, the boy swept past the stunned teenagers, moving to settle into one of the chairs farthest into the corner, where he sat with his spine straight, his shoulders back and his chin tipped just slightly up. It gave the impression that he was looking down on everyone else in the room.

Kari turned wide eyes back to her friends, absently noting that TK's jaw was slack in his own shock. Finally, Davis put words to what all three friends were thinking. "He… that… what a _jerk_!"

-o-

He watched carefully, sharp blue eyes peering up through the bangs hanging in his face. He knew he had been harsh with his little classmate, had intentionally chosen his words and tone to cut most deeply. But… she was a child. They all were. He had to immerse himself in their world... but they didn't deserve any part of his.

A fraction of his mind absorbed the lessons the teacher went through – nothing he either hadn't read or couldn't reconcile with what he already knew – but the majority of his attention was focused on observing and categorizing his classmates. He'd learned long ago to read a person's body language, the little movements that told him when a person was lying, or what their next reaction was likely to be. Now, he turned that analytical mindset to the other teenagers.

The brunet boy with the goggles – jock, probably soccer judging from the old grass stains barely visible on the knees of his uniform. And if his expansive gestures as he 'whispered' to his friends was any indication – as it always was – likely to be loudmouthed, hotheaded and prone to acting before he thought.

The black haired girl up front sat straightly, eyes attentively on the blackboard. Teacher's pet, upright and naive, almost certainly. The boy slouching over in the other corner would be the slacker, probably putting just enough effort to make C's in his classes – _if_ he bothered with that much.

_'And then there's me'_ he thought cynically. He almost – _almost _– allowed a small, bitter smile to cross his lips. _'The loner. The sarcastic, antisocial bastard who doesn't care – or maybe enjoys it – if he makes little miss goody-two-shoes cry. The mean S.O.B. that everyone learns __**quickly**__ to stay away from. Not a troublemaker, not a team player, just… there. For now.'_

Bringing his attention back to the lesson being taught, the boy now known as Hotaka completely dismissed his classmates from his mind.


End file.
